


the sun was where you left it

by monomania



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crack, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 19:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14268222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monomania/pseuds/monomania
Summary: Viktor's positive his subconscious decides to wait until their marriage is lulled into a false sense of security before getting to funny business.(No. As in, literally, funny business.)All is fair in love and war, and his husband seems very much willing go to all out in their newfound pastime—a prank war.





	the sun was where you left it

**Author's Note:**

> this is something i wrote for the live and love yoi mini-bang's prompt "action" *coughs* with cat's wonderful beta work and eris beautiful art to go along with it! make sure to give them some love (≧♡≦)
> 
> cat: http://chickenstrips-fuckem.tumblr.com/  
> eris: https://www.ghostlybl.tumblr.com
> 
> link to the artwork made for the fic: https://goo.gl/72y9FT
> 
> without further ado, i hope you enjoy! (◕ᴗ◕✿)

They’re already in Russia when he tries to scare Yuuri for the first time.

Viktor wonders why it never occurred to him before; he reckons that they were too busy with training and sight-seeing to actually settle for anything more domestic than simply sharing a bed or having their meals together. But now, during their off-season and edging the milestone of what might as well be a whole year in St. Petersburg, the frivolous and childlike need of having Yuuri rendered utterly playful and defenseless for kicks keeps bickering at the back of his head.

That’s also how he finds out his husband is positively _impossible_ to scare.

He tries it all—printing pictures of scary things and hiding them in drawers, fake squeaky rats carefully positioned on the fruit bowl atop their dinner table, rubber bugs carelessly thrown in the strangest of places, lurking by himself in the corners of their apartment and waiting for Yuuri to pass by, and then some. Needless to say, absolutely nothing works, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

So, it’s on the occasion where Viktor actually gets stuck inside their closet, waiting for Yuuri to show up with their freshly clean clothes from the laundry room, that he reaches his breaking point. After over forty minutes, the squatting position made him unable to feel his toes altogether, and his back hurt as if he’d just spent the last few hours carrying bricks; he can’t even pull himself out of a piece of furniture, for Chrissake. If Yuuri wasn’t the person he put the most trust into in this entire world, Viktor doesn’t think the humiliation would ever fade. He's _done_.

“It's time to come out of the closet, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov,” Yuuri says, hiding a grin against his free hand while he beckons helping his husband to an upright position. “It's been _years_.”

The scares dissolve into something sillier that definitely get to Yuuri, then. The first successful attempt is when Viktor waits for him to leave the apartment with Makkachin for his morning run. He's usually out for one hour, give it or take—and it’s barely enough time to sneak out the secretly-acquired helium canister from under their bed and fill bags and more bags of rainbow balloons until he can't feel his hands. He kicks them to the living room, finding out with glee that there's little to no space left to move, manages to finally position himself to hide against the back of the couch, and _waits_.

As for Yuuri’s reaction, he considers a series of one too many possibilities; but the fact that he squeaks in sheer delight and—as soon as the shock fades—doesn’t stop giggling for nearly half an hour, has Viktor prepared to do anything in his power in order to see him like that again.

 

In the evening of Makkachin’s birthday party, Viktor decides to put his newest plan into motion.

It’s not that he isn’t creative by himself, but there's just too much of vile pent up energy begging to be released (considering he's never had much opportunity to plan such things). And as he adamantly refuses to do something too mean to Yuuri, he seeks solace among friends.

The tape-on-the-faucet classic might be doable, he thinks, and finds himself entirely mistaken when Yuuri shows up, soaked from head to toe, seeming more disappointed than downright upset or even slightly amused. Viktor crosses off all suggestions made by Yurio and makes a mental promise to never agree to scheme anything even vaguely cruel ever again, crossing his heart on it. If Viktor has any saying on it, the only thing gracing Yuuri’s handsome features will be a smile and nothing else; but one too many purposeful autocorrect disasters and multiple Nicolas Cage cut-outs later, Viktor grimly finds out that Yuuri is not to be trifled with.

“Really?” he quips, bemused. “My best friend gives me monthly crash courses on memes, and you’re trying to play me like _this?_ ”

All is fair in love and war, and his husband seems very much willing go to all out in their newfound pastime— _a prank war_. As Viktor rises early on the next morning, making a quick  trip to the kitchen for coffee and returning to their room for a change of clothes, the sight of his every single drawer filled with clothes meant for toddlers have him coughing up a startled laughter and squirting a perfectly good latte through his nose. He is only interrupted by the elongated “ew” Yuuri shoots at him from his poor hiding spot behind the doorframe, eyes crinkling at the edges.

His free hand immediately shoots up to the base of his nose to keep more liquid from coming down, and Viktor feels himself flushing to the roots of his hair.

“You little devil,” he says, but not without affection.

When Viktor motions to reach for him, his husband lets out the tiniest squeak, and proceeds to run from him about the house with a frankly admirable, fierce determination. This is Yuuri’s first night in his good pajamas set, and he’s absolutely _not_ getting coffee all over it, thank you very much.

In retaliation, Viktor makes sure to have something planned for Yuuri by his occasional afternoon nap. Trusting he sleeps like a rock, the Russian spends a solid ten minutes gluing sticky notes all over him, using whatever time he has left to draw little hearts on as many as he possibly can. When he accidentally slides the pen off the paper’s edge, however, making a small line through a sliver of skin, he can feel Yuuri stir to a wake. It takes him a moment to process the situation before him, but once he does, his snort is so loud and utterly ungraceful that it nearly sends his husband giggling helplessly to the floor.

“You did _not!_ ”

Yuuri shoves his face back into the cushions of their mattress and starts to furiously rock his legs back and forth, surprisingly uncoordinated, laughing enough for a few stray tears form at the corners of his eyes. He lets Viktor take a seat against his middle, and both of them begin to carefully work every sticky note out of him; when his husband suggests to simply pull more than one at once in an attempt to make quick business out of it, Yuuri says the rough movement might get them more wrinkled than they already are—and since he means to keep them, at least the ones that had been doodled on, they must be stored in good shape.

“All of them?” Viktor asks, devotion seeping through the cracks.

Yuuri simply grins, pulling his beloved into a long, decorous kiss.

It's almost a week later until they finally bring it up again; Viktor had been so busy with negotiations with sponsors that their little competition had been cast aside, the lethargy becoming very vivid in his crystal-blue eyes. When he flops down on their couch, feeling exhaustion eat at the edges of his bones, Yuuri comes rushing out of their bedroom—a very familiar helium canister in one hand, and an already filled-up balloon on the other. He sits on the floor between Viktor’s legs, propping the small latex tip against his puckered lips. Receiving only a puzzled look in response, Yuuri breathes in as deeply as he can, feeling the helium fill his lungs a little more heavily than plain air would. Once his mouth is free again, he blushes profusely, blinks a few times, and gives him the widest smile within his realm of capability.

“Don't be sad, Vitya,” he says, voice coming in a ridiculously comical, high-pitched screech that startles a shrieking laughter off of both of them.

They spend the following hour as creatively as possible—until the helium runs out, that is; they get a noise complaint, Makkachin has a lifetime worth of blackmail fuel, and their stomachs literally hurt from laughing too much. After two bottles of wine and an exquisite breakfast-for-dinner, they're already happily tucked in and cuddling each other under the covers of their marriage bed.

Not necessarily a prank, Viktor muses, thoroughly charmed, but he’ll take it—especially since their peace is inherently short-lived, as Yuuri’s schemes make yet another appearance not even two days later. Viktor gets back from an outing with Chris, only to find most of their furniture swapped by astoundingly convincing cardboard models.

“Yuuri, why?!” he yells through his friend’s maniacal laughter, only to have their elderly neighbor crack the front door open to shush them.

When Viktor makes the deadly decision to become deadweight on the fake couch, this time, he falls gloriously on his butt, and the carefully-made replica tears itself to shreds around him.

“You homewrecker!” he hears Yuuri’s friend, Phichit, cry from all the way across their kitchen, semi-hidden behind the counter.

He only admits defeat when countless alarm clocks go off in his phone, seemingly at utterly random hours in the course of multiple days, sporting songs that instantly make him wish for the ability to be swallowed down by the floor—from PSY’s Gangnam Style and Major Lazer’s Bubble Butt, to Avril Lavigne’s Hello Kitty and Kelis’ Milkshake.

(But _damn_ , is that a good song.)

Yakov is wholly unimpressed as the impromptu _Never Gonna Give You Up_ springs havok in the middle of their meeting with all the other skaters, but both Mila and Yuri seem to be having the bloody time of their lives, and so he simply shrugs off the lecture—as he often does. And when he finally returns to his husband's arms back at home (safely supported by their non-cardboard couch), Viktor melts on top of him, nuzzling lovingly against his neck.

“Are we done with the pranks?” he asks.

Yuuri hums. Viktor is pretty sure he wasn't the winner on this one, but he isn't about to admit that out loud.

“You know, Vitenka, I was thinking,” he trails off, seemingly distracted, fingers making soft patterns at the small of his back. “Just like what we've been doing these past few weeks…being gay isn't a choice.”

Viktor blinks in confusion, feeling warm hands still against his skin.

“What?”

Yuuri licks his lips, gaze taken by a wicked gleam. In the blink of an eye, he grabs a tiny ball from underneath one of the cushions, pulls at a semi-transparent string attached at the end, and a giant burst of confetti is thrown against them with a loud and startling _pop_.

“It's a _game_ ,” Yuuri continues, “and I'm winning!”

Viktor blinks once, twice; feels the ever-growing, overwhelming bliss prickling at his toes. The exhilaration is so great that smiling is only an afterthought, coming slowly, but surely, as he embraces his husband once again. Is it possible to die from happiness? Because if so, he might as well be dead and buried, right where he stands. Viktor pulls him in for a passionate kiss, full of meaning and adoration, as the iridescent cuts of paper join their bewitching dance in just about everywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> [NO THIS WASN'T A MEME FIC WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT](https://me.me/i/being-gay-isn-t-a-choice-its-a-game-and-21246809)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: after some inputs from @quietdetective about the usage of helium canisters, i've changed a few details on this. thanks again!
> 
> feedback is loved! (◕▿◕✿)


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